


Bound Ever After

by MzMilo



Series: Viewfinder Prompts [4]
Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: Alternate Universe set in Harry Potter's magical world, Character Death, Japanese timeline: Nara Period, M/M, OCs - Freeform, Seer!Akihito, Soul Bond, Time-Skip, Unstable!Akihito, darkly twisted plot, fragment-style writing, madness issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2015-07-20
Packaged: 2018-03-26 07:49:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3842827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MzMilo/pseuds/MzMilo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ours was no ordinary connection. It was a soul-bond transcending beyond time, space and reality. For better and for worse. Always and forever...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bound Ever After

**Author's Note:**

> A few portions in this chapter rightfully belonged to my friend Tori-A. Inspired by the movie: The Scorpion King.  
> *sighs* Sometimes I worry about my muse's sense of priority and plotting. Yet here it is.

_In one timeline we kiss but the stars don't come down. In another you set a world on fire for me but I perish in the flames. Another and we're strangers on a busy street, brushing by close enough to send each other reeling off balance but not stopping. Somewhere there's a final space where your hand on my face is the punchy climax to an epic saga, where the way our mouths meet takes the breath right out of people's throats. One universe has us right, of all the millions stacked on millions. So it's not this one. I can live with that. The world is full of wonders and a hundred years ago the moon was too much to dream of touching. Look how far we've come. Turn over your shoulder and just look. Maybe we'll come across each other at the turning of the century, racing across the breaches between worlds. I'll build my life on that maybe."_ — Elisabeth Hewer

* * *

Inside his sleeping quarters, Akihito lies between the edge of dozing and semi-awareness. He has not slept this peacefully since his Seer powers had been completely awaken.

Since he was a child, visions of death and violence in frightening frequency plagued him as current events were often manipulated by man-made incidents through war and bounding natural incidents such as famine and flood happened.

Only the oath between him and Asami Madara, grounds his vision at present to near stability. Or as stable as it can be under the disposal of an Asami.

Sensing that a change of his sight is coming, Akihito sighs before the scenery transforms...

He appears inside the trance-like scene like a disembodied ghost that quietly witnesses his mother's behavior from a summon at the main house.

She looks visibly edgy, trickling an alarm in him. Her apprehensive anxiety further reveals through a sharp commanding tone at the guard lurking around the one person had that effect on her, notwithstanding Asami Madara.

The summon must have come from that man. His father, Asami Hideyoshi.

Akihito had only seen blurry images of the man from his previous visions. It had left him two impressions. One, was of a tired war veteran air and two, nostalgic melancholy.

None of those two impressions are present now. Asami Hideyoshi is fiercely, formidable-looking as those eerie, ancient golden eyes pierce into his mother's.

"You should not have come back."

Akihito has the strangest urge to cower back from the nuance of cold displeasure curling in every syllables from those words. There is something other-worldly layering the man's outer shell. Something that feels ancient and all-encompassing.

"I did ask sanctuary for myself, alone. I'm doing this for Akihito."

That is true. In half.

Akihito realized the otherwise. Some huge portion of his mother is resigning. The desperate hunger bidding for freedom has become a losing game.

A thin smile curls mockingly from her words. "If you really care for his well-being, you should have spared him from further torment of your heritage. You certainly have a way of giving affection."

Akihito's breath is caught between his throat. It is almost like the man is pitying him. That death is more preferable than being alive.

"No matter, everything has already changed." The tone is of acceptance of the inevitable.

"Hate me all you want for the choices I made. Only remember this: Akihito is far stronger than I will ever be."

The expression from the man is surprisingly of tolerant amusement. "You do not have to remind me. Akihito had made it very clear when he stood up for himself. Which brings to why I summon you inside my quarters."

His mother studies the other suspiciously.

What Hideyoshi says next froze her and Akihito.

"It is of immense importance for me to oversee Akihito's studies."

"You will teach Akihito out from the goodness of your heart?"

Akihito is suddenly afraid for his mother. Hideyoshi's face is tight and frosty. "I am a lot of things but not taking responsibility of my son is not one of it." He pauses, as if to consider how much he can say. "It is his inheritance."

It is clear that no love is lost between them as father to son.

If Akihito lets his stubborn pride talks him out of this, he will not get things done in a faster and safer pace. Mental and emotional setbacks of being a Seer alone, is a heavy burden.

Grudgingly, it is practical side that wins over from him.

"Aside from being generously noble? Why are you doing this?" His mother perseveres in her interrogation. Akihito stares with fascination. This fiery bravado of his mother is admirably impressive.

The response comes with a dry smile. "Madara's self-preservation instincts far outweighs his ambitious tendencies. Covetous as he is with the advantage of the Seer's power, he does not want a fool inside his inner court. And he considers Akihito as one of his priceless possession, one which he wants to look after zealously."

Akihito slightly bristles from the outright possessiveness. It seems he will have to get used to being labelled as a prize jewel.

That is the end of the conversation as the vision fades and dims, taking him back to the present time.

Akihito opens his eyes slowly. Stiffly, he removes himself from his bedroom and rings a bell for his servants. He orders them to prepare a warm bubble bath and breakfast for him. While waiting for the preparation to finish, he studies their quick but precise movements. His presence seems to disturb them in uneasily like he is a predator lurking behind the shadows. Treating him with feared deference he has grown accustom to the past twenty-five days.

It mostly did not help that his overall unnatural physical features is in contrast to the pure Asian blood has set him far apart among the dark-haired far eastern kind.

Well, his servants' deference is comparably better than Asami's court of noble blood's sickening schmoozing as they desperately tried to get under his good graces. Grimacing at the thought, he dismisses the servants once they are done and his breakfast in bath is all set, they leave him alone with subtle haste.

Akihito reviews his current vision as he relaxes.

Seer or no, he has always endeavour to observe people with clinical, incisive eyes. He did not want to rely solely to his visionary power. At times, visions might cloud his better judgement, skewing his perception. What he sees are things in a bystander's viewpoint. He certainly have the knowledge but not the comprehension of how and why things happened.

And there are dreams, nightmares that seemingly feels like memories.

The dreams, visions of past, present and future are matters that intermingle into one unfathomable mixture, leaving nothing but remnants of foreboding impressions which seeps to his consciousness gradually changing his outlooks and even his personality. Accelerating into paces where it left him scrambling harder to catch up.

There was a reason why Seers were often recluse, strangely unhinged, out of their mind individuals. A Seer's ability is similar to a dry sponge which absorbs magnitude details of people's lives. Seers are without a choice, do feel, hear, and see intimately in close contact of people's hopes, fears, motivations, secrets, and potential of what few persons might achieve.

And what made the those visions to stop was his oath with Asami Madara that serve as a chaining anchor, filtering the other bewildering sights that always welled out nostalgic sensations into him like flooding out-pour. It's been two month since their oath-taking, and his health had improved in startling bounds.

What he really desired though in the deepest part of his heart, is to take a chance as a runaway but he realizes how his end would be after several visions of those who had similar abilities like him were headed after envy turned to hate transforming into fear resulting condemnation and at last the death of his kind. There is no luck to live a normal life for someone like him.

Yet he figures out that his life is still his choice of way to live, and he did not intend to waste himself going maudlin in his misfortune. He only have two choices after being caught in the middle of a raging mob and the deep blue sea. Either he give up letting the mob decide his fate or to jump headlong over the unknown.

So Akihito took a leap of fate. Only under his own terms.

It is the potential Akihito had seen to the Asami lineage and the intuitive sense of rightness that lead him to offer the oath of Seer's Service. A gamble, Akihito terribly dreads and resignedly welcome at the same time. Dreading the gamble knowing that the Asami's power will be obtain through violent spilling of blood and fallen bodies belonging to both innocents and guilty. Welcoming the gamble as it is will provide him and his mother a safe haven.

Even if it means, living in a gilded cage.

Akihito's heart is torn between guilt and of hope for the choice he did.

* * *

For the next decade, Akihito is kept busy in his studies in every aspects of education his father, Hideyoshi has deemed necessary. From botany, mind arts, magic, chemistry, medicine, history combat and warfare, politics has made Akihito's repertoire of knowledge, abilities and skills to expand in a frightening rate of a prodigy.

Asami Madara only watches his development with gleaming eyes.

Until the right time is set for Akihito to take the Seer's post.

* * *

Twenty-three winters has passed by in Akihito's life.

It is at that moment, he has experience a change in his visions. A more bewildering, scattered surreal wisps of images that threatens to overwhelm him as they rage into a vortex of fragments, transporting him back into the past. A past that were not of his life, this present life.

Past memories that belonged to another version of him, another him from another worlds...

* * *

 

"Please..."

He stirred from his stillness, thinking if it was only his imagination that produced that young voice.

"Please..."

He listened. It could be a mistake.

"Please...avenge them... for me..."

The request made him curious. No one had ever wished to him with such avenging fury. Most humans would rather dish out their vengeance or hand it over to karma or surrender justice over to the Creator's will.

And his kind did not grant those kind of negative wish anyway.

"I want them dead without any kind of redemption."

That was new, again. Others don't usually specify the last one as long as the enemies were dead.

"If you will accept my plea, you will have me."

There was no dithering hesitation. No defined limit.

It was more than enough in the deal.

He fell down to Earth.

And "Peony nebula star" was no more.

* * *

 

He was the addition, the extra, the spare. Not overly protected, spared just a bit chunk of affection at times, petted when the occasion called for it. Sometimes bullied for boredom's fun and frequently ignored. With that short of back-story, he did not rate high developing social niceties which was why he was really clueless how to handle a relentless, stubborn human who did not know the meaning of rejection.

(He really had the stalking shadow coming. In hindsight, he should not gone out of his way to be like that old parable of good Samaritan. He could not deny the instinct though. He was once a good Angel of light after all.)

"Stop bothering me. Get a life."

"You are my life."

...That was nauseatingly cheesy. And disturbingly sincere.

He rounded at the human called Ryuuichi, (a name that literally meant the first son of Dragon, if it was named to anyone too less, he would have to hunt the name-giver in offense) to glower, glaring was far too beneath him.

"Do you even have the slightest comprehension of what you are doing?" He drew up, towering the other's taller height. " _You_ are a _man_."

One thick eyebrow perfectly arched in response. "So?"

"Find your partner. A _woman_ ," He pronounced with bold emphasis. "That's how your Creator made you as a pair."

The other had the gall to give him that violating .

"Are you offering to be one?" The human asked, ignoring the rest and only focused at the first line of his suggestion.

He spared a moment to gaze skyward, wondering if being determining hopeful was one of the reasons human survived the three apocalypse.

"You should be aware by now through those bard's tales that my kind loathes yours enough to turn our backs from glorious grace, ensue a rebellion, and play puppet masters so that we can drag souls to everlasting torment." His eyes pierced with thorough observation of the human's tainted soul. "Save yourself, Ryuuichi."

The human smiled all self-satisfied smugness. "You do care."

The aching feeling in him must be a kind of disease that plagued mankind to do crazy shit. He was clearly straining from it. "We are mortal enemies."

A knowing look was bestowed at him. It made his insides shiver. "You do not count yourself as one of them, Akihito."

He almost laughed at that. He was too way closer with the harbinger of chaos than what humans were lead to believe.

"Even so, that does not change the fact that I am one of them."

Apparently, the human did not mind at all. Still, steadfastly undeterred.

"I do not care damming myself to be with the devil as long as he could love me as much as he loves hell."

The declaration was too much for him.

He walked out.

* * *

 

 _"I will have poetry in my life. And adventure. And love. Love above all. No... not the artful postures of love, not playful and poetical games of love for the amusement of an evening, but love that... overthrows life. Unbiddable, ungovernable - like a riot in the heart, and nothing to be done, come ruin or rapture,"_ He read out loud with amused incredulity.

 _This human, Shakespeare, was a romantic fool,_ He decided, shaking his head. He discarded the tome, mind already plotting to annoy the hell out of his favourite human.

Not a slightest clue, that somewhere deep, really deep in the abyss of his consciousness, the tiniest seed was planted into its very depths.

* * *

 

He side-eyed the epitome of uncaring aloofness Ryuuichi was all but emitting. The golden-eyed man certainly did not bat an eye when resorting to drastic measures.

He winced, hearing the sharp cracking of bones. "Is it necessary?"

"Very."

Silence from him. The free-for all melee Ryuuichi thrown out like fleshly meat for his bloodhound-minions was overkill in his opinion.

Ryuuichi's hands reached for him, cradling his bruised cheeks gently like a precious stone. Or a weapon most likely. A huge contrast from the violence those pair of hands could wring out to the others.

"In time, you will learn why I could not stop when you told me so." He inwardly flinched. One hand left his cheeks as it rubbed soothing circles down his back. "I won't allow even you to impede my better judgement in laying out your protection, your majesty."

The vow was infinitely terrifying but strangely comforting at the same time.

His only response was a kiss to his knight.

* * *

 

_By the time you find this note. I'm gone. It is safer this way. You have done your best to keep me away from the other half of your life. That did not stop the others to conveniently use me as leverage against you. My existence as your most identifiable weakness had made thing difficult for you. I'm not strong enough. That is why I have to go._

He was too confine in his sorrow, blinded by his tears to sense someone reading over his left shoulder. Then he yelped, finding himself upside down, and thrown over like a weightless sack on the bed. Firm, possessive body caging him.

He gulped at the murderous rage of intent that was not intended for him.

And fear. Only a quicksilver flash of it what was sooner replaced by a savage, hard expression.

"Who said you could let go, Akihito?"

He was thoroughly fucking damned.

* * *

 

Pounding dread filled his heart as he did the best he could to staunch the lifeblood gushing out from Ryuuichi's chest that was embedded by a kunai that he pulled out before.

"Ryuuichi, stay with me. Kirishima will be here soon."

A smile to calm him down turned into a bloody grimace of pain. "S-Sorry."

His eyes widened. "You're sorry?!"

"By forcing you...to be..with me...my selfishness destroy your...life."

This admission made him furious. "Don't get arrogant. _No_ one could force me to do their bidding. This is my choice, to be by your side. And you can only compensate me by staying alive."

"Hazy, half-lidded eyed stared at him with magnified adoration. "...I do not really..deserve you... do I, Akihito?"

He choked a laugh. "I could not agree more." Biting his lips, he stifled back his welling tears. It would only hurt Ryuuichi to see his sorrow. Before he knew it, a pulling force sprawled him, striding Ryuuichi's lap.

"Ryuu─mmppphhhhh!"

Hi lips burned, devoured deeply by Ryuuichi who sucked the very air he breathe until they were breathing together as one. Firm arms holding him possessively proclaiming _mineminemineonlymine_ which he returned with an equal torrid desperate kiss.

Above them, ominous clouds gathered.

* * *

 

In the stone monument, a series of characters engraved vertically in artistic kanji from the front read,

_Asami Ryuuichi_

There was a respectful hush in the sea of black.

Dressed in black kimono he paid his respects, drifting through the formality half-numbed.

It was the skies that wept for him.

He did not need to turn and see the measuring eyes drilling on his back.

Hell would freeze thrice over before he would allow everything that Ryuuichi work so hard to fall apart into the hands of greedy old prunes and ambitious upstarts. It was his duty, his responsibility as the sole benefactor of the assumed crippled Underworld kingdom.

The mantle was too heavy for him but he persevered, rising above them all.

The searing, heart-wrenching despair had awoken a dormant monster into a vengeful, warpath beast. His battered heart beyond irreparable. The all-consuming rage pushd him into lengths he would twice consider before. Retribution did nothing to ease down the lingering agony within him, it only settled down, simmering for a time.

He lost himself.

And could not for the life of him recognized this new person.

_Will you still love me as I become, Asami Ryuuichi?_

Silence was his only answer.

* * *

 

 _Turnabout is fair,_ He supposed as the pleasured cries grew louder from another round of coupling. The soft grunting sounds drove the venomous knife deeply into his torn heart. He took that as a harsh wake-up slap on the face.

For a moment, he stood there behind the closed door, battering down the rising anger of betrayal. Even if he had the right to be furious, it was his fault in the first place. His indiscretion was a huge mistake.

_He had hurt Asami._

If someone a year ago claimed to him that he, a measly crime photojournalist had the power to graze a scratch on the prime kingpin of Japan's Underworld, he would have been high with giddiness.

The end of this crushing ironic success however, left him with nothing but bittersweet victory.

He did not know whether to laugh hysterical or barge in unceremoniously like it was his own office to begin with. To confront them head-on with that righteous indignation a faithful lover had to his cheating philandering boyfriend.

Boyfriend. What an unlikely word to inline with Asami Ryuuichi, a man who was rumored to care little less for his playthings, a person who effortlessly reinvent cold indifference in taking his pleasures and never sparing a second thought of consequences for his used, discarded toys.

He knew better now. Those were masks the man developed, guarding the layers on his person to conceal the human underneath the labelled notoriety. And which he, Takaba Akihito without knowing, had painstakingly crumbled after a journey to hell and back (his rape, his meddling with Baishe, his abduction, his stalker, and the current one his betrayal with Sakazaki) had ultimately succeeded backstabbing Asami at the angle no one had ever expected.

 _I did it for Asami,_ that was what he reasoned out to convince himself for doing what he had to do with Sakazaki. But underneath that seemingly self-justifiable cause was the fervent need to prove himself as he stood on precarious balance of where he stood in the place of Asami's heart.

Of course, Asami had found out about it. Though he never said anything or gave a slightest indication that he knew all along.

Maybe if had only admitted his mistake and asked forgiveness, it could lessen the pain of his betrayal. Yet he chose not to, fearing how Asami would react (recalling the cold eyes after confessing his sell-out of Asami on Feilong for the safety of his friends) to his pathetic sniveling desperation of making himself useful.

And so it went, his guilt burdened further by keeping it a secret and Asami's typical aloofness started to yawn a spreading gulf between them to the point that each of them made-up a plethora of excuses so they don't have to stay within each other's sight until they found themselves leading separate lives. Both of them waiting for the proverbial hammer to drop to make their split official.

It was understandably Asami who first threw the towel.

It was not like he could restrain Asami's fierce sexual intensity by himself. Asami was not exclusive to him alone. Moreover, he had no defined rights to forbid Asami from seeing another people.

He would take half of the responsibility that whatever he had with Asami had went the way it did, but he did not have to stay like a martyr for their start-to-finish fucked up relationship and took everything aside with a nothing-is wrong smile. With this decision, he stepped backward with heaviness in his heart straight into the penthouse.

Inside, numbed and somewhat absent-minded movements, he grabbed for his own stuff, things that were solely his and none of those possessions that Asami's money bought for him. Glassy eyes ran over the set of cameras inside the shelves. He picked the only one that started this whole game, placing it carefully inside his suitcase with the rest of his meager belongings.

Then, his eyes traveled at the full body-sized mirror, reflecting a young man who stood alone looking so out of place in the luxury with his weather-beaten jeans and crinkled shirt. Shoulders hunching, dried lips quivering and eyes glistening at the corners. A defeated person with a crushed heart by his own undoing. Investing a little bit too much against his better judgement, an investment he recklessly corrupted.

_It is my fault for playing a game where the winner takes it all as he preyed on all of my doubts and weaknesses._

His eyes drifted over the CCTV camera above him.

"I'm sorry." For all those three words worth, he meant it.

Sparing one last look around the penthouse, his home for less than a year. He pulled the suitcase and silently went on his way.

There was no going back.

It was over.

* * *

 

Time gave the impression of hovering in limbo.

It was the hardest thing to do. Trying to keep himself awake, conscious. The chill around the place was not helping, playing tug of war against his willpower. His body was stiff with frostbite, blotched with frozen red trails. Hard, numbed forefinger punch button for quick dial. He was grateful his tormentor left him a parting gift as he waited for the other to pick up his call. On second thought, he pushed the loudspeaker on.

*ring* *ring* ring* *ring* ring* *ri-*

The blaring, erotic music from the other end nearly made him deaf.

" 'ello."

There was no response before a door slammed closed, muting the loud background music. The silence told him that the yakuza was still chillingly furious.

He would grown white hairs if he did not start first. "...I-I...thin─k you 'ould kno..ow A-Asami..."

Silence described the other disinterest as if he was only obliging him.

He ignored it. "I-yah fi'ured it... o-out..."

"...What?"

" 'ur g-game. An' I'mma tired of i-it..."

"Are you drunk again, Takaba?"

Drunk?  
...Takaba?  
He blinked down at his shirt. It was wet. Sticky, too. He smelled bad like fish guts.

"...No. M-my...uh 'ead 'urts...though."

"You're drunk."

Something so matter-of factly and impersonal about the words made him barked a laugh before he was severely cut off by harsh, sticky, wet coughs. His lungs struggling for air as he convulsed from pain. He barely heard the urgent calls from his phone.

" ─swer me, Akihito! Where are you? What's going on?"

He tried to speak, what came out was a wheezed. Clearing his throat by coughing again he was unmindful of the spray of red.

" 'ould...know..y-you must..."

"Where are you, Akihito?!"

His eyes squinted. "Umma..no' s-sure. Iz w-white in 'ere..."

"Just hang in there. I'll find you." He smiled blankly from the soothing assurance of Asami's voice.

"...you d-do...al─ways...'ould."

What was it that he must say? He thought hard, his long silence alarmed Asami.

"Say something, Akihito."

"N-Need to 'ell somethin'..."

"What is it? Tell me."

The order pulled out the very important words from him. He could not find the strength though. He tried harder, pulling every last bit of what remained in him to force out what had to say. He coughed again, his eyes stinging as spasms rocked all over his body.

He rasped out, "...I-I 'ove...you." Paused, breath harder.

"...know...t-that..." Trailing off as his lungs faltered.

He shivered one last time with a soft gasp.

"Akihito! Akihito! Answer me, Akihito!"

* * *

Akihito wakes up with a hoarse gasp as if he has been screaming for the past hours. Gripping his quilt tighter, he finds it drenched with his own sweat. Disoriented, he brushes of his hair that was matted with sweat.

Slowly he sits up, wiping of the nearly dried tears on his cheeks and mindful of the receding tremors in his body. His heart he thinks, felt heavily crushed. Not only that he is too tired and weary like he came out from the end of a long journey, a journey that makes him changed into a─

 _An old soul,_ Akihito realizes with a sickening jolt as a rush of visions, no, memories from his alternate selves returns back to him, confirming what he had in a portion of intuition suspected all along.

A sheer troubling sense of grim fate descends on him. More certain by now that he is a major key player of a meddling cosmic being who loves to make his life more interesting by not allowing him to die properly as he should be. The scary thing was, it seems that only him and Ryuuichi are the pair left standing in this millennia-old game, few others teetering between pawns and trump cards and the rest left to be as collateral damage. And in far rude terms, cannon fodder.

How should he go from here on?

He cannot bear to simply let those memories be forgotten.

There might be missing links from those memories, but he has to be deaf, blind and an utter imbecilic fool not to see and understand the depth of mad obsessive love they had for one another that had alternately compelled them to save and damn each other.

Asami Ryuuichi fiercely loved him to destruction.

As much as he might wanted to, Akihito cannot choose to ignore that solid fact. The option of not doing anything has never crossed Akihito's mind even from the beginning of this earth-shattering revelation.

 


End file.
